


A Last Hope: Burning Bridges

by dogmatix, norcumi



Series: Balance [5]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: AU of an AU of an AU, Alternate Universe, Explicit Language, GFY, Original Character(s), Slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-29
Updated: 2016-05-29
Packaged: 2018-07-11 00:47:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7017436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dogmatix/pseuds/dogmatix, https://archiveofourown.org/users/norcumi/pseuds/norcumi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Adi needs to see her former Padawan. Mace needs to finally get that explanation from Yoda. Yuri is just trying to stay out of trouble.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Last Hope: Burning Bridges

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to Alyyks and Flamethrower for lovely beta-ing! Also thanks to Jabberwocky, who helped make sure the kids came across as kids. ^_^
> 
> Yuri Dravaco, this version of Siri, and Rillian remain Flamethrower's creations, and they got to come and play here with Flamethrower's kind permission!

_Another glorious day of paperwork_. Adi Gallia sighed and pulled the day’s pile of ’plast, datapads, and small boxes of who-knew-what closer. She’d left the pile only a few centimeters high the night before, yet here she was, hours later, and it was back to ridiculous. The horrible part was that she was getting used to it.

Being a former Council member in disgrace meant she seemed to get the brunt of the Order’s pointless bureaucratic work. It had been several months since her punishment had started, and she was becoming grimly certain that it wasn’t about to stop any time soon.

Adi paused in her automatic priority sorting, setting a small shipping container in front of her. It was addressed to _her_ , not to someone else or the Council as a whole. She recognized the parcel as coming from a reliable if slightly disreputable courier company, so it wasn’t much of a surprise that there was no sign of where or from whom it had originated.

 _Charming._ She spent a few minutes examining the container with the Force, searching for anything suspicious or potentially dangerous. No explosives, nothing that hinted at danger, and only a trace of something biological but not hazardous.

Beyond mystified, she opened the container and pulled out a holo, the chip wrapped in some braided thing in red and yellow. Adi carefully unwound the braid, only to freeze and stare at a long strands of hair, mostly a vibrant red with more natural, pale blonde at the base. They were bound together as a Padawan’s braid, decorated with the few beads and twists that Siri favored.

Her hands shook as she set down the holo, starting the recording.

It _was_ Siri, dressed in casual garments that were neither the tunics of a Jedi nor the scruffy get-up she’d worn when going undercover as a slaver. “Hi, Master Gallia.” She sounded weary but not emotionally shattered, the way the last few whispered communications had been. Adi leaned forward, hand over her mouth. She’d been so damn _worried_ about her padawan, and Siri finally looked to be all right.

“Sorry to report I failed my mission. I kept with it as long as I could, but...” The image of Siri shook her head. “There was a shipment of kids. I couldn’t – I couldn’t stand by any longer, Master. So I killed the bastards – argh, sorry for the language, things have been...odd, lately.” Siri ran a hand over her hair, tugging at the tail before giving Adi a weary grin. “I killed them instead of tracking the wider circles further, and as much as I regret not being able to halt that little mess...” She shrugged. “There might be a greater evil going on out there, but this was a pretty substantial evil right in front of me.”

Siri sat up a little, looking wry but serious. “I wanted you to know that I’m okay. I’m actually doing better than I had any right to expect. I have...I have help.” Now she looked a little nervous, as if this part of the speech were well-prepared but she was still immensely uncomfortable with it. “I found Masters Yoda and Jinn. No details, since they want their privacy and all, and I know they’re not really all that popular at the Temple right now.” She took a deep breath. “I’m safe, and not being coerced or anything crazy like that. However, I’m not willing or– or quite able to come back to the Jedi.” Siri glanced away from the recorder for a long moment, as Adi struggled to regain composure. Yoda? Qui-Gon? They’d– what, helped? Given her sanctuary? Good gods, why would Siri be _unable_ to come home?

“There’s a lot of Darkness out there, Master Gallia,” Siri declared softly. “I didn’t get out when I should have. I made the choice to stay, and I found that after a while, the Darkness sticks.” No. Oh _Force_ no, not this. Siri looked back at the recorder. “Jinn’s got this crazy notion, Dark _and_ Light sides of the Force, and he seems to be on to something.”

“This cannot be happening,” Adi whispered, eyes huge as her padawan actually seemed to relax.

“I’ve taken some time to get a handle on it, find my way around a, ah, different lifestyle, and it seems to work. It’s not the Jedi, but Qui-Gon’s _building_ something here, an honest to goodness different way of life and I swear, Master Gallia, it’s not twisted, or evil, or anything like what I’ve ever heard about the Dark side.”

Siri took in another deep breath, then gave her master a level look. “Jinn seems to think that I qualify as a Knight.” She snorted in amusement. “There’s this whole little speech he had for me about surviving my Trials and persevering in the face of difficulty, and I think he’s sometimes full of shit, but–” Siri shook her head and grinned wryly. “I’m still working on a lot, and I’m behind the others in a lot of ways, but he thinks I’ve shown the mastery of skills and self, and the capability to be a knight. So thank you, Master. I’m really very sorry I couldn’t come back to give the braid to you in person, but Master Windu made it clear we’re not allowed back on Coruscant. I...understand if you don’t want it, for whatever reason, but I felt it really ought to go to you.”

Siri looked away from the recorder, silent for a long moment, with a sad little smile on her face. Rallying, she looked up again, the melancholy expression changing into an open grin. “Thank you again, for all you’ve done for me, Master.” The grin went impish, and Siri tilted her head in a polite bow. “From Knight Siri Tachi of the Shades of the Suns. Good luck, and may the Force be with you.”

* * *

Yuri sighed and glared at his desk terminal. He had electronic files coming out his ears, there were piles of ‘plast large enough for younglings to play hide and find with, and he was grimly certain that there were mountains more just waiting for him to have a few spare minutes.

Being the target of Mace Windu’s wrath was not enjoyable.

“ _Where are they!”_

Yuri bolted upright in his chair, hand going automatically for his lightsaber. Adi Gallia stood in the doorway, eyes wild and expression one small step from a snarl.

“What?” he yelped, staring blankly.

Adi stormed in, marching up to him in a brittle stance that would have looked more in place behind a lightsaber. “Yoda and Qui-Gon! Where the _hell_ did they go to ground?”

He blinked a few times, struggling to follow the conversation. This was unexpected. “Adi, I don’t understand, what are you _talking_ about?” Yuri was trying to stifle a sense of genuine hurt that rather surprised him. Over the last months they had spent some time commiserating over being the two Masters in the most trouble with the Council, the Order, and the newly involved Senate. It didn’t make them best of friends, but she had always seemed to respect both him, and his promise to not tattle Yoda and Jinn’s location.

She waved something at him, movements stiff and swift. “They have my _padawan_ , I want to know where the _hells_ they are!”

“Your- What? You don’t have a padawan!”

Adi slammed the thing in hand down onto his desk, a holo message of some sort making a ringing _smack_ through his small office. “Siri! I just got this message from her, she’s with them, she’s–” Adi’s voice caught, and she carefully held up something cradled in her other hand. Yuri’s breath shuddered out. A padawan’s braid. Oh, Force, what the hells? “She’s calling herself a _knight_ and they’re up to Force knows what and I need _answers_.”

“You know I need more than that to work with,” he somehow managed to say. Adi glared at him a moment, then stabbed the play button on the holo.

He went pale, then _cold_ as the message played out. There were all sorts of cues that this was not coerced. There was a wealth of information in remarkably few words.

All of it was madness.

Jinn had _sworn_ to him that the man only wanted a quiet life. Yoda had seemed shocked and more than a little disturbed at the notion of some order of Gray users. Skywalker clearly hadn’t given two shits, and the Wookiee just as clearly had only wanted to learn more about using the Force.

What the hells was going _on_ on Tatooine?

The silence after the holo stopped was thick and uncomfortable. Yuri finally sighed, swiping a hand across his face and deciding to play it cautious. “You can’t just go haring off to you don’t even know where–”

“That is my _padawan_ ,” Adi growled, lunging up into his face and pointing at the holo. “The last time I saw her I was part of the idiots assigning her to a Trial of finding out what the fuck is going on with a slaving ring that will not stay shut down. This should have been an assignment of a few months but it’s now over two _years_ because she kept finding hints of involvement from the damned _Banking Clan_ , two other guilds, and who knows what else! I need to make certain that she is all right! Has red tape clogged your brain beyond functioning? I need you to tell me where she _is_!”

Adi pulled back with a wince Yuri shared as there was a warble in the Force. They were both struggling for composure as a Senate guard, dressed in conspicuous blue, ambled down the corridor outside. Adi had to turn away from the hall to regain her composure, though they both were still a little pale and uncomfortable when the guard finally turned the corner.

Yuri gave her a mild glare. “Adi,” he hissed, trying to keep quiet without letting his disturbance show. “This is foolhardy at best. Please reconsider!”

“What would you do, if this was your student?”

He met her glare for glare, because dammit, that was not a fair question, his student had passed her trials years ago, and that was not even the topic of discussion. They were still glaring when Mace Windu swept in.

“Master Gallia, I need to talk to you.”

Adi seemed surprised, verging on guilty. “How did you know I was here?”

Mace’s eyeroll was a study of understated sarcasm. “When you’re not in your quarters, office, or the commissary, you’re here.” Yuri tried not to wince, desperately reaching out to the Force for some serenity. How the hell Mace could make it sound like they were having some kind of clandestine affair– ugh.

In the meantime, Mace sobered, giving Adi a searching glance. “Master Gallia, we received word from Siri Tachi earlier today.” The head of the Order hesitated, then thawed enough to look genuinely sympathetic. “I’m sorry to inform you that she left the Order. I hope it gives you some solace that she seemed fine.”

Adi nodded, looking down at the braid in her hands.

“Her Trials are considered unresolved, given that while she does seem to have destroyed the slaving ring, she broke cover to save a shipment of younglings. Her...actual status is being debated.”

“I see. Thank you.”

Yuri wasn’t sure if it was the terse words, or the not-so-subtle way that Adi was running the braid through her fingers. Mace noticed, one way or another. A quick glance over at the inactive holo on the desk, and Mace did some math. “ _Force,_ Adi, she told you? What _happened?_ ”

Yuri winced. While it was a risky business in the first place to poke Master Gallia with a stick, she had a large red button lately with Mace’s name on it. Her hands tightened, knuckles paling, then she glared at the head of the Order with a look Mace had become unfortunately familiar with of late, the ‘fuck you, Windu, and the speeder you rode in on’ glare. “She decided that an entire shipment of younglings were not an acceptable price to maintain her cover. According to the message, she saw the crew dead first.”

From the way Mace blanched, he hadn’t quite figured that ‘destroyed slaver ring’ meant ‘dead slavers.’ “I see.” He took a moment, his attempt to recover his composure visible. “I’m impressed. I knew she was skilled, but she was also significantly outnumbered. That could not have been an easy battle.”

Yuri winced as Adi _twinged_ in the Force, a potent emotional combination of guilt, anger, self-righteousness, and ‘fuck you, Windu.’

Mace frowned. “Adi, what the blazes is that about?” More guilt and frustration. “What are you not telling me–”

It wouldn’t have surprised Yuri in the least if Windu was somehow using shatterpoints to figure things out. That, or the man was actually obsessed, and Yuri wasn’t willing to put credits down on either result.

“She had to have gotten help,” Mace declared slowly, then glared over at Yuri as if it were all his fault. “Yoda and Jinn.”

Yuri did his level best to rally. “Not _everything_ is about them.”

Mace gave him a look. “Maybe, but the guilt in this room points to it.” He gestured to the holo. “Let me see.”

Adi hesitated, then set her jaw and hit play.

The instant Padawan Tachi reached details about an organized group, Windu whipped around, glaring at Yuri like he wanted to bite the fuck out of him. “You _fool_ ,” Mace snarled. “I told you and you clung to a ridiculous claim that this is the last thing–”

Yuri could _see_ Adi’s temper break. “Mace, stop being stupid, they _helped_ us. When are you going to pull your head out of your ass and _look_ at what’s going on! The whole Order is going to hell in a handbasket, and you want us to kowtow to the Senate some more!”

Mace’s glare transferred over to her. “You continue to find thinner and thinner ice to romp upon, Master Gallia. You would do well to consider your actions.”

Yuri had to wonder if they could hear _his_ temper break as well. “Enough! Master Windu, you are the Head of the Order. Master Gallia, you were a respected member of the ruling council. _Neither_ of you are crèchelings! Stop acting like a set of younglings!” He took a deep breath as they both gave him affronted looks. At least it shut them both up. “Now. I have made a promise, and I will not casually break that vow. So if you’d excuse me, _Masters_ , I need to go get a secure com and make a call.” He didn’t run out of the room, but it was damn close.

* * *

Yuri settled down in the private communications room’s single chair, emotions swinging rapidly though discomfort, betrayal, and absolute bewilderment. He had expected better of Jinn. His fingers rapped a quick tempo as he waited from the com call to connect. It should have been untraceable, but he wasn’t willing to put much past the Senate nowadays, so he was sending the signal through several relays in hopes of at least making life difficult for them.

It wasn’t as if the number he was calling wasn’t impossible to research, after all. _He’d_ done so, the day after he’d returned to Coruscant, because he was no idiot.

Cliegg Lars answered, his expression flipping from idle curiosity to guarded astonishment, before settling in a wary neutrality. “Master Dravaco. To what do I owe the honour?”

“I need to speak with Qui-Gon,” Yuri said, sounding clipped but civil. Then again, given how quickly Lars departed, he might not have been that successful at the latter.

The moment Qui-Gon was projected in front of him, Yuri leaned forward. “Is it true? I thought your word had some value.”

Jinn didn’t even pretend not to understand the problem. “Things have changed. _Circumstances_ have changed.”

“Tachi?”

Qui-Gon nodded. “Tachi,” he said calmly, seating himself. “Among other factors. How did you know?”

Yuri somehow kept from rolling his eyes. “Siri Tachi sent a care package to her old Master. And apparently a resignation letter to the Council.”

“Ah.” Jinn nodded, looking unsurprised. “Those arrived a little sooner than I expected.”

“What the _hell_ , Jinn? You told me you had no interest in some Dark Jedi, Sith organization!” Yuri glared, hands in fists and thankfully obscured by the desk he sat at.

Jinn sighed, leaning back and looking tired. Old. “I wasn’t. I’m still in some ways greatly not. But we are _needed_ , Master Dravaco.”

 _Oh, for love of the Force!_ “Needed by _what_ , the Dark side? To perpetuate–”

“Please stop,” Jinn asked, still looking haggard. “I’ve two dozen younglings we’re trying to take care of, not nearly enough space or shelter, and that’s all without trying to deal with my students, learning more about the Force, and the headache of the Hutts starting to get _curious_ about us.”

Yuri crossed his arms and glared. “My heart bleeds.”

“Only if your blood is sarcasm,” Jinn said with a tiny grin.

“I’ve been accused of worse.” He was not about to let himself be distracted by pleasantries or banter.

The fallen Jedi’s shoulders drooped in another long sigh. “First Anakin. Then Rillian looking for an alternative. Now Siri, who was suffering for _years_ undercover as a slaver.” His eyes started to change to Sith yellow, but Yuri could see they were different. Less disconcerting, less red around the rims. More like Skywalker’s, or Yoda’s. _Dear gods, what does that mean?_ “The Order virtually _abandoned_ her in that hellhole of a situation! Where the fuck is the Light in that? For the greater good?” A sneer accompanied the glare at Yuri. “So help me, there are days when–” Jinn stopped himself, with a deep breath. When he let it out, the yellow bled out of his eyes, and his expression turned wry. “There are days when my temper gets the better of me.”

“If being a Jedi were easy, everyone would do it.”

Jinn glared. “There should be a difference between ‘not easy’ and ‘ _soul-killing_ ’,” he said, voice sharp but without true anger. “Time and again, the Jedi Order has _failed_. It’s not even personal. It’s simple _fact_. In the last decade, there have now been three Sith in the galaxy, four if you want to include me, and the worst of them had set up his domain on _Coruscant_ , right under the Order’s nose! Qualified young initiates are sent off to be farmers or couriers instead of learning as padawans, simply because–” It took clear effort for Jinn to stop himself. “No. I am not having this debate again. The philosophical aspects are _moot_. Yes, Yuri, my answer changed. As I said, circumstances have changed.”

Yuri’s blood ran cold. “How many of you _are_ there?” he asked.

Jinn rolled his eyes, leaning back in his chair. “There’s how many thousand Jedi right now? And do you really think, that for all my sins, all _our_ collective sins, that we would risk any being by doing a half-assed job training them in some expansionist effort to crank out gray users? Do you think we’re making an army here? Some, what, clandestine group of assassins?”

Yuri had to fight down a shiver at that horrible notion, even though reason was reasserting itself. “You can hardly expect me to _not_ consider these possibilities.”

“I suppose that’s fair.” Qui-Gon nodded, a speculative expression coming over his face. “What do you think our odds are?”

Yuri couldn’t stop a snort of laughter. “Dammit, Jinn.”

“If you want a headcount, there are those of us you met, Siri, and one of the younglings we saved. A Twi’lek child, eight years old, and therefore too old to become a Jedi, not to mention too traumatized. She has already lost her parents and her home. If we do not teach her, who will? Or should we send her and her siblings out into the world, to let her trauma fester into hate? We’re at least acknowledging the problem, the pain and anger that child has. Do you really think that can just be released into the Force and all will be well?”

Mace’s words, the arguments he’d used to try to get information out of Yuri loomed large in his mind. “And in the future? How many are you planning to add?”

Jinn’s look was flat, even, and implacable. “We will not risk people to the Dark by stretching our resources too far.”

Oh Force. Yuri swiped a shaking hand over his face. “Meaning as many people as you can recruit that the Order failed.”

“Invite.” Jinn was calm, patient. “We will invite, but that is all. The Dark side is still not to be trifled with.”

Yuri let out a bark of laugh. “You do.”

“No. We practice with the Dark side, we play with our abilities, but knowing the exact boundaries where things can fall apart are also useful to _not_ trespassing too far.”

He still hated how these madmen kept making sense. “Fucking hells, Jinn. You’re really starting up a brand new order.”

“Why does everyone feel the need to repeat this a dozen times over?”

If it weren’t for the plaintive tone, Yuri would have thought the man was joking. “It’s almost unbelievable.”

“Is it? Or do you just not want to believe it?”

Yuri knew what Adi wanted. He knew what _he_ wanted.

He was also keenly aware of what Mace would say, and he really was in more than enough trouble as things stood. “I want proof.”

“Oh?” A single raised eyebrow made Yuri feel like a padawan again.

“A visit. Myself, Master Gallia, Master Windu, and– ” Damn. Damn, damn, _damn._ The Senate would not approve. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to figure out how to play this out, and how much leeway Mace would give him. “The nearest pretense of civilization, what is it?”

“Anchorhead, but,” Jinn hesitated, looking at him oddly. “There’s little reason for most people to be there. Mos Eisley is the closest place where there’s a...somewhat reasonable excuse to be.”

 _Oh lovely_. He’d heard of it. That did not inspire anything good. _You pick the_ best _locations, Jinn._ Still. At least they could claim to be investigating something nefarious in the area. “Fantastic. Given travel, we should be there in nine rotations. I’ll find a way to contact you.”

“Or you could just stop by and visit.” Qui-Gon was watching him closely, concern clear on his face. “Dravaco, what is going on?”

He did not want to get into this. “I’ll either contact you, or stop by. Don’t shoot or stab anyone who just shows up. Nine rotations.” He shut down the connection, and dropped his face into his hands.

Mace was going to have his hide, Adi would do worse, the Senate had to be kept in the dark, and it was probably too late in the day to go back and hide in bed.

* * *

Taen Riju stared out the porthole, dismayed beyond words and once again wondering what the _fuck_ the Jedi were up to. A combination religious retreat and Search for Force-sensitive younglings? As _directed_ by the Force?

Hells, but Jedi were weird. He’d heard that Tatooine was the armpit of the galaxy, but seeing it was something completely new. He looked over at Master Dravaco and shook his head. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Dravaco rolled his eyes, looking disgruntled. “I said pretty much the same thing.” Taen was once again glad that the Jedi he had to babysit was the sane one. “But when Mace Windu says the Force wants you looking for Force potentials, then you go looking.”

Taen grunted, shaking his head again and glancing over at Master Windu. The head of the Jedi Order sat – on the floor, not a chair – cross-legged and meditating. That man was fucking spooky. It wasn’t just the Jedi thing – the mind reading; the no-hands-needed thing; or the way they all moved a little too fast, a little too smoothly, like a holodrama character instead of a living being that stumbled, sweated or bled, or had to eat and shit. It was Windu himself. Too calm, too distant, with eyes that saw right through you and you _knew_ he was always judging you.

Six months ago, if anyone had told Taen his promotion from a Judicial grunt to a Senate Guard had meant he’d have constant contact with the Jedi, he’d have laughed in the idiot’s face. Now here he was, landing on fucking _Tatooine_ , after being stuck in the small shuttle with three Jedi and four other guards.

It got marginally better when they landed. Mos Eisly looked to be the armpit within the armpit, but they finally ended up at a nasty little hotel with an even sketchier cantina attached to it. Master Gallia went right up to her room to meditate – she was the one here for the retreat, though Taen had no idea what she’d be retreating from. Hygiene? Civilization? Maybe the Force was more active when there was more murder and shit going down all around?

Jedi.

Taen was a good little watchdog, trailing around after Master Dravaco. By the end of the sweltering, hellish few hours, he was pretty sure they’d seen the best this pit had to offer, and it was ugly as a rancor’s privates. He was keeping a suspicious eye on the night sky when they got back. It was never supposed to be that damn _dark_ on a planet. Stars that bright were for _space_.

Master Windu was sitting at a small table in the corner of the cantina, while Windu and Gallia’s guards were claiming a table nearby. Gallia’s set were drinking actual alcohol, so they were off duty – seriously, meditation was getting your ass numb while you lost feeling in your feet. How could Jedi stand it, let alone the literal _hours_ that woman had engaged in over the trip?

Windu did that creepy regal nod to Dravaco, which meant ‘getcher ass over here and report in,’ just in polite Jedi-speak. “What have you found?” Windu asked when Dravaco sat his ass down.

“Nothing conclusive, but the Force seemed particularly active on the southeast side of town. One of the smaller slum areas. I couldn’t pinpoint anything, but I think with some rest and meditation, I might be able to track it down.”

Rest and meditation. Words Taen loved to hear. Dravaco could go numb below the waist, and Taen could enjoy–

Ok, the local color was pretty much ‘puke yellow,’ but at least it wouldn’t be wandering out in those _suns_.

Windu blinked once, like some kind of feline. “I see. Then you’d best get started. Have you any idea how long it might take?”

Dravaco made a face. “Give me a rotation. If I’ve no results by then, perhaps you or Master Gallia could assist me in finding out what it is I sensed.” He stood, bowing to Windu then nodding to Taen. Taen walked the Jedi to his room anyways, because a job was a job no matter how stupid it could be.

He couldn’t quite resist asking, though. “You really gonna be meditating for a full rotation?”

“If I have to.” Dravaco grinned and winked at him. “We’re trained for this sort of thing.”

 _Jedi_.

* * *

Yuri shut the door with a sigh. Gods, he hated this planet. ‘ _Master Gallia?’_ he sent through the Force.

‘ _What took you so long?’_

‘ _I found a fairly strong Force presence in the slums.’_

There was a moment of silence. ‘ _Seriously?’_

‘ _I’m just as surprised as you are that the cover story panned out. The Force does like its little jokes.’_

‘ _I am not in the mood for humor right now.’_

Yuri tried not to roll his eyes; Master Gallia was stronger in the Force than he was, and for all he knew she’d be able to tell. ‘ _Did you send the message?’_

‘ _An hour ago. No reply.’_

‘ _There wouldn’t be one. Now we just have to wait for our signal.’_

* * *

Mace took another drink, trying once again to let the roil of emotions go into the Force. Dravaco’s guard had rejoined the others, bringing with him some beverage that was electric blue. All _he_ knew – best for everyone, that – was that in a short while there would be a _mild_ distraction and a speeder available.

Mace almost choked on his drink as shatterpoints blossomed into being and the Force hummed with power. This was not good. The guards were all fairly Force-blind, so this couldn’t be the distraction that had been promised, could it?

Mace nearly crushed the glass in his hand as Anakin Skywalker strolled in the door.

It was one thing to read a report about Skywalker. It was another to see the cocky, very un-Jedi-like swagger accompanied by the dizzying powerhouse of potential right in front of him. At the very least, Skywalker wasn’t paying the slightest bit of attention to him. The kid sauntered over to the bartender, asking for a drink. Meanwhile, a quiet buzz was growing, as more and more cantina patrons turned to look at the boy.

It was one of his guards, Kayl, who gave him a clue as to why. “Oh _gods_ ,” the normally taciturn woman gasped, “do you see that?”

Dravaco’s guard snorted. “Little young for you, isn’t he?”

Mace’s other guard raised a brow. “Little _human_ for you, isn’t he?”

She flapped a hand at them, never once looking away from Skywalker. “Yes, and yes, you fucking idiots. That’s _Anakin Skywalker_ , aren’t you listening?”

Dravaco’s guard shrugged. “So what?”

Kayl glared at him. “He’s the only human to ever win the Boonta Eve Classic, which is only the biggest podrace in the galaxy! He did it when he was _nine_. Can you imagine what his piloting’s like now?”

Mace concentrated on his drink, because if he listened to more of that conversation he would have to ask if the kid was in fact too young or too human for that kind of obsession.

“Hm, more successful a diversion than I had hoped, this will be!”

Mace took a moment to unclench his teeth, then glanced over to his left. Yoda sat there in the booth, with Mace between him and the guards. The old master looked totally unconcerned with matters, and far too pleased with himself.

Mace had the mutual urge to throw his glass at Yoda, and to sigh and slump back in nostalgic relief.

Instead, he pointed at the Fallen Jedi. “You owe me some answers,” he growled.

* * *

The best part about the nasty little hotel they were in was that the drop from their windows to the ground would be nothing to a normal person, let alone Jedi, and they already had the best view of the alley that would be provided.

Yuri led the way to a battered family-sized speeder idling outside the alley, with a bored-looking young man behind the wheel. The little Force notice-me-nots that Yuri and Adi were using kept most eyes off of them as they slid into the back seat. Owen Lars didn’t look their way once before driving off at a reasonable speed.

Once outside the confines of Mos Eisley, Lars hit the accelerator, and the Jedi popped back up into view.

“Thanks for the lift,” Yuri declared, dry as he could.

Lars grinned at them, a wide smile that seemed genuine, and curiosity danced in the man’s Force signature. “Hey, if it means Ani lets me drive, I’m willing to play spy games.”

Adi gave him a look. “These aren’t spy games.”

His mouth curled in a wry, self-deprecating grin. “Well, if _I’m_ involved, I’d say that’s pretty accurate.”

* * *

Adi studied the moisture farm they were approaching. She was fairly certain it was small, as those things went, but in the dark night there was the looming shape of what looked to be a construction site – a large one – not too far from it. She remained as still as possible, tightening her shields and attempting to retain her serenity.

Siri’s message had said she was doing well. She’d _looked_ better. Adi tried to keep that close.

It both was and was not in the least reassuring that the farm had no hints of Darkness to it.

Matters became even odder as they pulled into a small garage. Qui-Gon Jinn was waiting for them, arms crossed and a frown well in place. He was no longer wearing black; instead it was more the tans and browns it had been before he Fell. He looked better than he had, on Coruscant. Qui-Gon had gained some weight, and a few of the worst lines had eased from his face. He was still worn, and much leaner than in his Jedi days, but the improvement was remarkable.

“Welcome to our home,” he said, a wry not-quite-grin flickering into existence. “Are you going to explain what this little subterfuge song and dance is for?”

Dravaco hopped out with a grimace. “Senate watchdogs. Decent enough people, but they can be problematic to lose.”

Qui-Gon was frowning as they clasped wrists. “I don’t think I understand.”

Adi sighed as she got out. “The Senate thinks we need oversight. The reasoning lies somewhere between we cannot be trusted to do our duty to find Sith, if indeed the former Chancellor Palpatine was one and had been in power for years; and we cannot be trusted to act responsibly if we’re romping around killing helpless politicians who hold our purse strings.”

Qui-Gon stared for a long moment. “That is the biggest load of bantha shit I have ever heard.”

She tilted her head in acknowledgement. “It is. It’ll blow over. First they wanted extra forms to track us, now there’s guards, but they’ll get bored, and complacent, and reason will prevail.”

Yuri snorted, sounding remarkably dubious. “If nothing else, the Senate budget can’t accommodate them tripling their guards and leaving the poor bastards with us, even if it does make the politicians feel better that we won’t murder them all in their beds some night.”

“Do you really think they’d do any good against that?” Qui-Gon asked, sounding dry as the desert around them.

Yuri smothered a grin. “No, but for all that, they’re persistent and difficult to lose. Haven’t met one yet I can mind trick into leaving me alone.”

“Yuri!” Adi glared at him. “We’re to work with them!”

The man shrugged, unrepentant. “If we’re to work with them, and there are Sith in the universe, then I want to make damn sure the person who may or may not be at my back isn’t going to be looking the other way when the first idiot strolls along and makes him think there’s a lovely distraction somewhere over there.”

“There are many better ways to do that.”

Adi wondered at Qui-Gon’s affronted tone, and Yuri pulled back with a chagrined grimace.

“My apologies, Master Jinn. I didn’t think you’d…” Yuri trailed off.

“That I’d object when you put your foot in your mouth, and then kept chewing?” No one managed dry quite like Qui-Gon Jinn.

Yuri looked at Qui-Gon for a moment, then pointed behind him. “I’ll just go see if any of the local Larses want to threaten bodily harm again, then?” He took off before he could get an answer, and Adi pulled back a little at a sudden upswell of noise as Yuri let himself out. She glanced at the door, then back at Qui-Gon.

“That sounds like a lot of younglings.”

“Only about a dozen, now, but they make up for numbers with enthusiasm. They’re probably distracted by a new playmate. Wait until they pass, then let’s skate by while we can.”

Adi waited for the younglings to rush past the door, an eager mass of various races looking more than ready to clamber all over their resigned human jungle gym.

She didn’t miss the protective hovering of the young Wookiee nearby. Adi was still chewing on that as Qui-Gon led her into a small study, divided for use by two people. The neater, cleaner side had a small desk and several piles of flimsies and datapads, while the messier side was a mess of scribbled sheets, schematics, and Force only knew what. Qui-Gon thankfully sat at the neater side, gesturing for her to take the single chair between the two desks.

“So.” She folded her hands together and tried to remain calm as she met his eyes. “What are you doing here, Qui-Gon?”

* * *

Mace sat back, swirling his drink as he tried to sort out the verbal sleight of hand that Yoda so adored. Yoda claimed that Qui-Gon had been feeding the Council information anonymously via Yoda. Mace believed that. He’d never been able to determine how Yoda had gotten some of the intel he’d provided over the years, and this fit.

Yoda also claimed that an unknown Sith had been willing and eager to take down a known Sith Lord for personal reasons, and had been willing to work with Qui-Gon thanks to some old debt. Now, that was entering murkier waters. It didn’t quite have the ring of truth, but nor did it sound like a lie, and it did mesh with what Mace had seen that night in the Senate. Mace was willing to grant Yoda some wiggle room there.

The unknown Sith’s resemblance to Obi-Wan Kenobi being nothing more than a strange coincidence, Mace didn’t believe. Of course, as soon as he’d voiced that doubt, he’d gotten the look that usually preceded a rap with Yoda’s gimer stick. Thankfully, the notice-me-not Yoda had up might not cover the traditional gesture, so for the moment Mace was safe. “Too young, Venge is, to be Obi-Wan,” Yoda had pointed out, and again, Mace had to grant the point. There were any number of differences, and he’d studied the footage as closely as possible. Given some of the long-healed scarring, as well as other small differences, Mace was willing to allow that the uncanny likeness was more likely a relative, or work of reconstructive surgery.

Why someone would want to do that was anyone’s guess, though Mace was willing to wager that had something to do with Qui-Gon’s obsession and that ‘old debt.’

None of that, however, answered the most important question.

“Why?” Mace glared over his cup’s rim at the Senate guards, clustered around a cocky yet blushing Skywalker who was talking at hyperspeed, gesturing wildly as all racers needed to do to show off whatever feats of stupidity they had accomplished. “Why did you Fall?”

Yoda huffed a sigh, looking away towards Skywalker, or perhaps seeing much further still. “Talked to Master Gallia, have you?”

Mace managed to not roll his eyes. “Yes, I’ve heard all the theories about doing a controlled Fall, to be prepared for– that bit at the end.” He took in a slow, steadying breath. “The consequences, though–”

The harumph was biting. “Free, nothing is. If consequences there are not, then of substance, one’s actions are not.”

“The consequences to the Order are extensive, and I still think you did not properly consider them!” Mace snapped back, keeping his voice low.

“In good hands, I have left things–”

“That is hardly the point! As far as most of the galaxy is concerned, the Jedi Order went on a rampage and slaughtered a beloved political figure! And then you _left_ us; you left us dangling in an impossible situation, with a rabid Senate to placate, a populace that doesn’t trust us any longer, and no one to take responsibility except those of us who had _nothing_ to do with the matter!”

That earned Mace a sideways, evaluating look. “Angriest about my betrayal of the Order, are you, or betrayal of you?”

Mace hesitated, then looked away. He set down his glass, rotating it restlessly as he watched the five eager Senate flunkies continue to mob Skywalker for more stories. “They patrol the Temple,” he said, voice soft and hoarse. “No one knows what they’re looking for, or listening to hear – I suspect even they won’t know, until they hear it. The halls, all the meditation areas – you can feel the unrest disrupt the flow and harmony of our home. No one knows how long it will last, or what will set off the Senate next time. I am concerned that it – _they_ – will not stop, now that they have a taste of power over us.”

Yoda sighed, ears flattening as he looked every bit his eight hundred plus years. “Power, they have had for a long time already. Political maneuverings, the Ruusan Reforms were, and power it gave the Senate. On their leash, we have been, more and more as years go by.” He shook his head, gimer stick tapping a restless pattern against the seat. “Aware of that, too few of us have been. Aware of it, even the Senate has not been. Sorry for giving them cause, I am.” He hesitated, then looked over at Mace. “Sorry I am, not to have been there for you.”

Were Mace a man with a shred less control, his glare would have shattered his glass and set the alcohol on fire. “‘Sorry’ does nothing,” he growled. “‘Sorry’ does not repair our reputation. ‘Sorry’ does not return order to the Jedi, nor does it calm a panicking Senate! It does not convince the people we are sworn to protect that we are not about to murder them at the slightest imagined provocation! ‘Sorry’ is about the most useless thing I could imagine right now!”

Yoda’s silence gave Mace the opportunity to calm himself. “So, Master Yoda.” He took a breath and made himself glance over and meet the once-Jedi’s eyes. “What is next for you and yours?”

* * *

“Qui-Gon Jinn!” Adi tried not to snap in her frustration, but she’d played this game too many times in the Council chambers with this man. “I applaud your skills at padding the details, but _none_ of this tells me what the blazes you’re doing with regards to Siri, or this new Order of yours!”

To her chagrin, Qui-Gon leaned back in his chair with a small, predatory smile. “I suppose that is a fair point.” Somehow she managed to not roll her eyes, because she damn well knew the signs of Jinn celebrating the trap working.

Then she went still as an almost familiar Force presence traipsed up to the office’s door. She whipped around and stared at it as a voice called out from the other side.

“Hey Qui? It sounds like the kids found a new chew toy, but I don’t recognize who.” Siri Tachi shoved the door open without knocking, sticking her head in. “What’s – oh.”

Adi stared her former padawan, drinking in as much detail as she could.

Siri looked much better than she had during the last two years. The red had mostly bleached out of her hair, and the haggard look was finally gone. She’d even picked up a dark tan from the desert suns, and her eyes that was no longer haunted. A prickle of unease ran down Adi’s spine. Not haunted, no, but there was something sharp in Siri’s, something foreign that Adi recognized from Qui-Gon.

Either he was tracking her closely with the Force, or his timing was impeccable. Qui-Gon barely took the time to murmur something pretending to be polite before slipping past Siri, nudging her forward with the Force just enough to close the door behind him.

Siri’s amused snort broke the brittle silence. “That man’s got more sneaky than he has any right to be.” She stepped forward cautiously, and Adi met her halfway. It was a tentative hug, neither of them quite sure of how things stood.

Siri was the one to slump into it first, clinging in a way Adi was unfamiliar with. It was somewhere between endearing and odd, and they both seemed a little relieved when they pulled apart.

“So,” Adi declared. “You look well, but how _have_ you been?”

Siri’s grin was wry, a touch awkward. “Heh. I’m...better. Much better than I have any right to expect, probably.” She gave Adi a sly look that was new. “I’m doing well for a Fallen Jedi.”

Gods. Adi winced, knowing she was failing to keep it subtle. It seemed her former padawan had learned some discretion, though, as she ignored it. Very well. If Siri was embracing this, Adi could do no less. “So, as a Fallen Jedi, how does this work?”

If Siri had not been her padawan, Adi might have missed the way she took a bracing breath. “A lot like the Jedi Order, in general. Same ranks, same titles since we’re all used to it. Not bothering with standards for clothes or lightsabers, because we don’t need to be that unified, and anyways, there’s a strong sense of ‘if it works, that’s good enough.’”

Siri was gesturing, rotating something small in her offhand while waving a hand vaguely towards herself. Adi finally noticed the battered, crude hilt that Siri seemed so comfortable with, and she had to wonder at the cobbled together nature of her student’s life. How Siri was comfortable with it, open and more at peace than Adi has ever seen.

Well. Except for that worry stone she seemed to be playing with. That was new, as well.

“The philosophy, though – that’s pretty different.” Siri didn’t grin so much as she _smirked_. It was...good, but disconcerting to see her student so at peace with herself, her surroundings, her sense of humor. “‘Darkness contained by Light.’ The end goal is to make sure folks know which is which, and don’t come down on people too hard when they see the Darkness.”

“Darkness contained by Light?” Adi sounded a little dry, not quite skeptical. It was obviously a quote, but it didn’t sound like any of the beings potentially involved as far as she could see. It was not simple enough for Qui-Gon, nor obscure enough for Yoda. Most certainly not the approach Siri would take, even with the new comfort in expressing herself.

Siri paused her playing with the worry stone, looking down at it for a moment, then held it out. “We’re blaming the kids for that. New motto and symbol and everything.” Adi took the object, which was perhaps not a worry stone, but a child’s bit of craftwork. Clay or somesuch. A black round bit, centered on a yellow disc the same shade of the Tatooine sand during the day. “Novee – one of the orphans – made this for me.” Siri snorted. “She says it’s a forgiveness gift, and no one can tell me if that’s something Twi’lek really do, if the kid made it up, or it’s something particular to her family or village.”

“Forgiveness?”

Siri’s wry grin turned bitter, and the Force shuddered with the sensation of a curl of frost. It was quiet, but powerful. Contained. “I helped slaughter more than half her village. She saw me herding the other half into a slave hold.” Siri took a moment, breathing deep, and the pressure in the Force returned to normal. “She’s also blaming her brother for the motto, because he was the one explaining how this Shade thing works. He blames her, and either way Yoda heard it and refused to let it go.”

Adi studied the simple – crude, really – stone. She could already feel a Force imprint from it, of care and anchoring and affection. “Hm. Simple. Direct.” She smiled at Siri. “Plain spoken. Is it representative?”

Siri grinned back and sat down on Qui-Gon’s desk. “Representative of simple and direct, or of our philosophy?” She shook her head. “Yes, either way. Between Ani’s bad habits and Qui-Gon’s lack of patience for stupid, we’re all getting to be a bit...blunt. And surrounding ourselves with family, with... _Light_ attachments is part of the deal.” Siri’s grin went wry. “That’s more structuring for the future, though. There’s just enough of us so far to be busy as several hells, and we’re trying to get matters to be a little more settled before we drag any other poor saps in.”

That was a strange relief to hear. Adi nodded, propping her hip against the other desk. As Siri sketched in the air with her hands details of the compound they were putting together, Adi came to the slow, awkward conclusion that this had been _good_ for Siri. She had thought she would never see anything like this again, after the last com message when her student looked only a hair away from something desperate.

She was starting to enjoy the eager way Siri was discussing frank plans to go out looking for those the Order...‘missed,’ when the Force shivered again. Siri’s head jerked up, and she was giving the door a stern look. Outside, the feel of increasing Darkness shook the Force, and Adi found herself on her feet, lightsaber in hand.

Siri put up an imperious hand. “Put it away.” There was a sharp tone in her voice, command without being strident. Adi hesitated, earning a cool look from her former student. “Master. There are younglings outside. Put. It. _Away_.”

Another quick hesitation, then Adi resettled her weapon at her belt. This... _was_ Siri’s home. Her turf, which she seemed to know well enough. Siri waited a moment to make a point, then nodded to her.

Siri opened the door only far enough to let them both look out. Most of the younglings had drawn away from two young Twi’leks, the girls glaring at each other. The one at the left was younger, deep green and sulking with her arms crossed.

Darkness swirled around the slightly older one on the right, a bold lavender youngling whose hands were balled into fists and sharp teeth showing. “Take! That! Back!” the girl snapped, the Dark side collecting into firmer shape.

Adi glanced away from the younglings to Siri, who stood loose and ready, but not looking set to lunge at the out of control youngling the way she’d expect. Oh, she was watching closely, narrow-eyed and prepared, but she seemed content to wait.

Wait.

For the Dark side. Gods, this only got more insane the longer Adi looked at it.

The younger Twi’lek made a face, lekku movements making it even ruder. She declared something impossibly filthy for a _youngling_ in Twi’leki, then shook her head. “ _You_ take it back!”

The world inverted a little on Adi as the nature of the scene sank in. Younglings, kidnapped by slavers after seeing family slaughtered. Force. _Would_ the Jedi have been able to handle the Dark youngling, had she been younger?

Worse, and in some ways even more terrifying, was that Adi realized she would have stepped into the middle of a charged situation with a drawn weapon – a charged situation between _children_ , use of the Dark side or no. As the girls tossed genuinely angry insults at each other, the Darkness continued to grow, leaving a shaken Adi to wonder what the blazes she ought to do.

Then a rich voice cut through the argument. [Do I get a ridiculous nickname too?]

The girls whirled and stared at the Wookiee who’d been watching over the younglings earlier. She stood with a curious cant to her head, grinning just enough to make it obvious without showing fangs. The Darkness shivered, but more like ice ready to break in a spring thaw than signaling an avalanche.

When the girls didn’t answer, the Wookiee shrugged. [I never got an interesting nickname.] She ambled over to the two, flopping down with a Jedi’s grace but a youngling’s limberness. She crossed her legs to sit tailor style, resting chin on her hand. [Can I get one now?]

That took her closer in height to the Twi’leks. The purple one glanced away, still in full sulk but without the directed fury she had before. The green youngling hesitated a moment, then with the mood swings of the young she grinned. “Rilly?”

The young Wookiee considered, then nodded. [That _is_ pretty ridiculous.]

The youngling lit up. “R’dic’lous Rilly!” She giggled and tried to repeat it, but stumbled over the syllables more and more. The other younglings picked up on it pretty quick, ending up in a giggling, hooting crowd around the amused Wookiee that Adi could almost mistake for smug. Yet a quick glance from the Wookiee to Siri convinced her that no, that was a polite cover.

Siri was walking – almost stalking, really, in a smooth prowl – over to the still sulking youngling, who’d moved off to the side of the courtyard. The Dark side still hovered close, though it had dissipated enough to be more undirected. Siri moved oddly, dragging the balls of her boots just a hair along the ground so as to not accidentally sneak up on the purple Twi’lek. When the youngling glared at her, Siri crouched down. “Hey.”

The youngling glared away. The Dark side simmered a little more.

Siri seemed to ignore that. “Novee still speaking without thinking?” No response. “Kiddo– ”

“It’s not _fair_. Why do _I_ always have to watch what I say and she doesn’t?”

Oh _dear_. This was the sort of argument Adi had never really quite understood, let alone participated in, in her youth. She never had been sure what to respond with.

Siri just shrugged, dropping her voice a little. “She’s still young and stupid.” Both Adi and the girl stared at her. “Rillian’ll speak with her later about it, when she’ll remember it instead of being angry. Meantime, you’re grown up enough to not need the time to cool down.”

The girl’s head whipped around so she could go back to glaring at the wall, but not before Adi saw her face crumpling a little. A long, long moment of silence was followed by a weak, “What if I don’t want to be grown up?”

Siri held her arms open, and the youngling lunged into a hug. She held the girl for a bit, then smiled. “We do the thing grown-ups do when we don’t want to be grown up. We go get cookies from someone more grown up.”

“Shmi has cookies?”

“Bet she does.” Siri gave Adi a look, which she returned with a nod.

The Darkness had cleared by the time the two went hand in hand through a door, and Adi leaned against the wall, watching younglings under the still-cautious eyes of a young Wookiee who had more than a touch of Darkness herself.

* * *

Mace didn’t like the fact that he couldn’t feel the Dark side from Yoda or Skywalker. He moodily twirled his empty glass, watching four of the five Senate guards huddled close around a table. They were keeping an eye on him, insofar as they would notice if he left, but they seemed to remain ignorant of Yoda.

Mace nodded towards Skywalker, who was still talking enthusiastically to Mace’s pod-racing fanatic of a guard. “You think _this_ is the stuff to found your Dark Order on? The Chosen One?” He gave the title a sarcastic lilt, since he’d never bought into it, and the awkward teen looked nothing like the part.

“Mm. Chosen One, Ani may or may not be. Good, however, he is.”

Mace gave Yoda a skeptical look. “You felt the same Darkness around him that I did. You’ve both Fallen.”

“Yes. But evil, we are not. If evil we were, sit here and talk to me you would?”

Mace had no answer for that. He glared back at his glass as Corporal Kayl almost staggered away from Skywalker. She was clutching a holo that Skywalker had signed, and looking as if she had just won several lotteries. The boy just looked confused.

“You’re Fallen, he’s got less social skills than most padawans. Jinn’s at least half mad, and Tachi was stuck with slavers for months.” Mace winced a tiny bit, since it had been the Council’s decision to have Tachi go undercover, but...

But.

Yoda made a neutral noise of acknowledgement. “Light, we are not. Dark, we are also not.”

“That’s supposed to reassure me?”

He finally got the sideways glance that meant Yoda was ready to reveal his hand. “Then visit again,” the old master offered. “A year. Or half a year. Time to learn and live–”

“And expand.”

Yoda inclined his head, seeming unconcerned. “Yes. Time, give us, then revisit. Send representatives. Search for evil, you should.”

Mace blinked. “Should?” he repeated. “You want us to return.” His first instinct was to listen to the Force, which said this was a good idea. His second instinct was to find all the potential traps, and there were oh so many of them.

“Yes. Stop us, if Fallen and evil and up to no good we are.”

“I’m to believe you’ll just politely surrender to our decision on the matter?” Mace asked, voice dripping sarcasm.

“Well.” Yoda tilted his head, ears waving a bit with humor. “If evil and up to no good we are, fight you I think we would.”

The noise Mace made was more than half amusement. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He eyed the Senate guards, who were starting to get bored with teasing Kayl. “You should go.” He hesitated, then sighed. “If I want to speak again – before that time limit is up – I should go through Dravaco?”

“Mm.” Amusingly, Yoda didn’t ask which deadline Mace was considering. “For the best, I think that is, yes.”

Skywalker was ambling out, slow and casual in a way Mace was surprised the boy could manage.

Mace made himself say it. “Thank you, Master, for the conversation.” He’d needed that. Force, he needed more, wanted so much to sit down and get some real answers instead of things he _knew_ Yoda had to have spent time coming up with the most infuriating, twisty answers.

Not to mention it still left him holding the bag with the Senate and the Order.

Yoda’s hand on his arm, gentle and reassuring as ever, was a frustrating balm on his emotions. “Contact us, if needed we are. Force be with you, old friend.” The old master slipped out of the booth, moving between patrons without the guards once looking his way. Mace gave him a good ten minute head start, then headed up to his room. His two guards followed him, and he tried once again for serenity in the Force.

* * *

Adi watched the younglings continue to use Yuri as their new jungle gym, though most of her mind was parsecs away.

Siri was a surprise. Adi had appreciated the visible improvement her padawan had shown in the holo, but the change in person was striking. She looked _stable_. Oh, there was an obvious weariness; the bad, bone-deep weary that ties in with screaming nightmares.

There was also a clear recovery beginning. Siri was at peace with herself in a way Adi had never seen or felt before. There wasn’t the faintest doubt in her mind that this was a being who should be a Jedi knight. A knight who had survived awful trials, and come out stronger for it.

However. There was a hint of something, some trail of Darkness lurking behind that like some feral beast waiting to burst out of the shadows...and yet.

Adi had seen a few Jedi that had endured less and broken. Before his fracturing, Xanatos had felt just as Light as Siri did now. Her student, however, felt stable – as if that knowledge Siri had of the Darkness meant that she had no fear of it, nothing to push her over the brink into the Dark and turn her against all she had ever supported or protected.

The Council had seen that before, had to deal with Fallen Jedi before. Adi couldn’t help but feel that Siri was not in danger of that, not in the ways she had witnessed.

She grinned as shrill shrieks greeted Yuri’s lofting of several younglings with the Force. Younglings, living with Darksiders in their very home, with a great deal less trauma than she would have ever expected to feel. That helped decide her almost as much as Siri’s well-being did.

Adi had been debating with herself for quite a while about what to do with her holos of the Palpatine fight. She had been able to find no answers within the Force.

What she saw, though, made the decision easy. This new group of Qui-Gon’s – and moreover, Yoda – had worked a miracle with her student. The last time Adi had talked with her padawan, Siri had looked strained _past_ breaking at least twice over. Adi had already worked to help this mad little group of Darksiders, but–

Yuri was right. They were Dark.

They _weren’t_ evil.

Adi stood, catching Qui-Gon’s eye and motioning towards his little office, letting him lead. As soon as Adi closed the door behind them, the indifferent mien was replaced by something that was nearly the patient Jedi master she remembered. That slightly feral edge was still there, though.

Before she could get too uncomfortable with that, she pulled the datachips from a belt pouch. “These are my recordings of the fight with Sidious. I’m the one who spliced the security footage together for all the Senate hearings, and of course the media picked up copies. It all comes from this.” Qui-Gon took the regular datachip with a mystified expression.

“I hadn’t thought to stop for souvenirs.”

She gave him a look. “You’ll find it’s most unfortunate, how your friend is often blurry, or out of frame.” Ah, _now_ he was paying attention. “It’s not perfect, and I couldn’t do anything about the raw footage other than make a very attractive alternative.”

“Adi– I– ”

She presented the other chip. “This one is sealed to your biometrics – we still had that data on file. It’s the only unedited version of the fight that I have, along with a good deal of the raw footage.” She had to smile at the flabbergasted man. “I’m afraid it’s not as traditional souvenir as a mug, but I, too, forgot to stop at the gift shop.”

Qui-Gon was blinking rapidly, and the expression he had for Adi was gentle as well as stunned. “Thank you,” he finally managed, covering the new hoarseness to his voice with a deep bow. “I appreciate it greatly, Master Gallia. This is a very thoughtful gift.”

She bowed back, then hesitated. “Qui-Gon...” She wanted to know, but at the same time she didn’t know what to do with the potential answer. “It’s– it’s not Obi-Wan, is it? I know it’s impossible; I was at his pyre, but–”

He cut her off with a sad shake of the head.

She hesitated again, but plowed ahead. “I...believe you. You do realize I need to take something more to Mace, though.”

Qui-Gon sighed, glancing at something well beyond the far wall. “Adi,” he said, voice soft with emotion that seemed both right and strange. “All I have is my word, and my logic. That was not my padawan. That man?” He pointed to the datachips. “He left, Adi. He didn’t tell us where, or what path he was taking, only that he was trying to get home. If that had been my Obi-Wan, I would not be here. I wouldn’t _care_ where he was headed; I would not let him go alone. If I had to follow him, not knowing if we would end up on the other side of the universe, I would.” There was another headshake, as if to brush away memories.

Qui-Gon had a faint smile for her, one far more familiar from better years long ago. “Yet I am here. _That_ is Attachment, and we try to encourage it. Mace will just have to accept that.”

* * *

Taen had never been so glad to get onto a shuttle before in his life. That included the two times he’d been under fire when it had happened.

Well. Okay. One of those times. The feel of cool air after that painful heat was some kind of blessing from gods or the Force or whatever, he didn’t care. He sat down on one of the benches in the lounge area, happy to let Kayl take care of piloting their crate back into civilized space. Master Gallia was co-piloting, and damned if the woman didn’t seem like she could now out-Jedi Master Windu. Apparently meditative retreat to the galaxy’s asshole could help.

Master Dravaco’s newest acquisition let out a grumbling little noise. The Ithorian was young, a little too quiet and a little too serene for not being quite three years old. Seemed even baby Jedi were creepy. The parents of the youngling had been almost relieved to see the kid going off to Coruscant, a better life than anything their tiny little hovel could support. They weren’t slaves, but–

Shack. On Tatooine. Not a good lifestyle choice, and if you were making it, you might not have too many choices to begin with.

Still gave Taen the creeps, though. Just up and handing over their kid to strangers who walked in wearing plasma swords so they had to be decent, right? Gods, he _had_ to hang out with them and he thought that was weird.

Well, at least all the Jedi had been well behaved so far. Windu and Gallia seemed to be in better moods – as much as Windu _had_ moods – and Dravaco had a cute youngling to take care of, which meant Taen would have a nice predictable routine for the next week or so.

Oh gods. Taen glanced over at the amused Jedi, who was talking to the youngling who mostly wanted to just play with Dravaco’s hair. _Please, please let him not get sent out for more kids._ He did not want the Force to be sending Dravaco – and thus him – out to more ridiculous armpits of the galaxy. He’d signed up as a Senate guard, not some space explorer!

It was possible that Dravaco heard those thoughts. The Jedi looked over at Taen, then winked. Smirked like the evil bastard he could sometimes be.

Taen resisted the urge to smack his head into a bulkhead. Looked like even signing up to be some youngling's jungle gym couldn't make the man behave.


End file.
